Jack Dalton: Helicopter Parent and Mac Interpreter Extraordinaire
by Dragonflysoul
Summary: A series of stories. Jack was well-versed in all types of Mac-Speak. Story One: Episode tag to 2x14 Mardi Gras Beads Chair. StoryTwo: Jill realizes that there are some things that only Jack can understand. PapaJack, H/C, Hurt MacGyver
1. Chapter 1

Title: Jack Dalton: Helicopter Parent and Mac Interpreter Extraordinaire

Author: dragonfly

Tags: drama, emotional h/c, episode tag, Papa Jack, Whumped Mac

Warnings: Spoilers for 2x14 Mardi Gras Beads + Chair

Summary: Jack was well-versed in all types of Mac-Speak.

A/N: If the muse behaves, I'm considering making this a series of independent stories.

Disclaimer: I don't own MacGyver. I'm also not a doctor, nor do I play one on TV.

~*~MACGYVER~*~

When Jack boarded the plane, he was shocked to find MacGyver on the bench seat, curled up on his side and already asleep. He immediately stopped flirting with Dawn and headed for his boy.

"He'll be alright, Jack," Matty assured from the seat across the aisle from MacGyver.

Kneeling next to him, Jack slid his palm over the younger man's shoulder blade. He didn't like the fine tremors he felt beneath his hand. "What's wrong with him?" Mac was usually the last to fall asleep, to finally wind down after a mission.

"He's just had a rough day, Jack. You look like you could use a few winks yourself."

There was something she wasn't saying. Something he didn't know, or hadn't realized. He gave her a hard look. "Matty, if—"

She held up her hand, forestalling his papa bear rant and came clean. "He got into a fight with a guy twice his size, was thrown through a window and has some bruises from driving a car into a building. He's been up all night with the rest of us, and you've seen his hands—burns like that take a toll on the body."

Clenching his jaw, Jack turned back to his charge. "He has a fever." It was one of the first things he noticed—before he had even touched him.

She nodded, but was frowning. "It's to be expected from the burns. He's already been started on some powerful antibiotics and painkillers."

Jack grimaced. Not only for what MacGyver was going through, but because the kid just didn't mix well with drugs. He brushed a hand over the blonde hair, feeling responsible for the pain he was in. He always felt responsible—no matter how MacGyver came to hurt. It was his job to protect him; and this one was all on Jack.

"Here you go, husband."

Dawn draped a blanket over MacGyver and Jack nodded his appreciation. After fussing with the soft material a bit, he noticed MacGyver watching him with drowsy eyes. "Hey, bud, how you feelin?"

Furrowing his brow, MacGyver hummed.

The humming was something he tended to do while injured or extremely exhausted and fighting a foggy brain. Thankfully, Jack was well-versed in all types of Mac-Speak. "I know. I know you don't like the drugs, but you need 'em."

Grunt.

"No, for as long as the doctor says," Jack countered. "You can't risk getting an infection, Mac."

MacGyver wrinkled his nose and Jack knew that he had won that round. For now. "You need anything?"

"Hmm." He shook his head slightly. "'kay?"

"Yeah, bud, I'm okay. Not so sure I could say the same about you, though."

"M'fine." MacGyver blinked sluggishly; still fighting the drugs and exhaustion—but at least he was on his way to using words. "Scared me."

…soft words that packed a punch and hit Jack square in the heart. MacGyver's vulnerability often shown in his eyes if you knew him well enough to recognize it, but rarely in his words.

"Yeah, I know." Jack smoothed his thumb across his fevered brow. "But thanks to you, the world is still blessed with my badass presence."

The corner of MacGyver's mouth twitched upwards, but only for a moment before he frowned and a pained look crossed his face.

Jack tensed. "Where you hurtin', buddy? Is it your hands?"

MacGyver averted his eyes, but not before they filled with tears, and not before Jack got an extremely rare, completely unguarded glimpse of just how vast and deep that pain really was. It wasn't a surprise—he knew his boy well, but the confirmation was no less heart wrenching. "I know, bud. I know."

He had been through a lot lately, to say the least; both physically and emotionally. "But you know I'm here for you. I'll hold onto your paperclips until you can make those masterpieces out of them again," he said with a reassuring smile. "And as for the other stuff…" His father, Zoe, Cage, bad guy after bad guy… "I'm right here. I'm always right here, and I always will be. You know that." He rubbed his shoulder.

MacGyver looked down at his bandaged hands, and it wasn't lost on Jack what he was likely thinking: that he had come so very close to breaking that promise.

Taking a deep breath, MacGyver looked up at him then with clear resolve, but watery eyes. "You look like crap."

Jack smiled affectionately at his way of telling him to get some rest, and that he didn't need to worry about him. The kid was as resilient as they came. He just wished he didn't feel like he always needed to be. "I'm assuming you haven't looked in a mirror lately, brother."

A soft, tired smile played across MacGyver's lips. "Too busy saving my old man."

Jack's vision instantly blurred and he had to swallow hard to dislodge the lump of emotion that suddenly lodged in the back of his throat. God, he loved this kid; _his_ kid. How his own blood could just walk away from him, he'd never understand. "Yeah, well old, or not, kiddo I can still kick your ass at B-Ball," he finally managed.

"'cause your oversized elbows," MacGyver mumbled, eyes staying closed a little longer with every blink.

"Yeah, maybe," Jack conceded fondly, lightly sweeping a hand through MacGyver's hair again.

MacGyver sighed, eyelids drooping further. "Hmm 'kay?"

Jack smiled. "I swear, bud," he promised as he continued to card his hand through his hair—because every time he did so, MacGyver's body relaxed further into the cushion.

Finally, eyes closed, bandaged fingers twitched in Jack's direction, seeking.

"I'm here, brother." He brushed his thumb over MacGyver's temple. "I'm right here."

And that's all it took. With one last sleepy sigh, he was out.

"Jack?" There was hesitation in Matty's voice.

Heart aching with an overwhelming mixture of love and worry, Jack looked over to find that Dawn had settled next to Matty; genuine concern was on both of their faces.

He looked back down at his boy. MacGyver always preferred to keep everything close to the vest; he wouldn't want anyone else to know what Jack knew: that he was struggling. "Like you said, Matty," he smoothed the blanket over MacGyver's shoulder, "he's had a rough day."

He missed the sad, knowing look Matty gave him.

"You take care of that boy of yours, husband," Dawn told him kindly.

Swallowing thickly, Jack nodded. It was a vow he had made not long after that first fateful day back in the sandbox. "Always."

3


	2. Gagged Partners and Secret Languages

Series Title: Jack Dalton: Helicopter Parent and Mac Interpreter Extraordinaire

Story Title: Gagged Partners and Secret Languages

Genre: Gen, H/C, drama, action, family, humor

Characters: Mac, Jack, Jill and a bit o' Bozer.

Warnings: None.

Summary: Jill realizes that there are some things that only Jack can understand.

Disclaimer: I don't own MacGyver or any of its characters. Also, I'm not a doctor. I don't even play one on TV.

~*~MACGYVER~*~

She used to like to think of herself as a woman of adventure.

"When they start shootin', you start typin'."

That all changed when she went on her first field mission with one Jack Wyatt Dalton. To be fair, she had always considered herself more of a Penny from _Inspector Gadget_ than a Lara Croft from _Tomb Raider—_ but she still grossly overestimated her ability to think _at all_ when not tucked safely away in her lab.

Crouched low between camo-covered pallets packed full of things that she'd rather not think of, Jill looked down at the screen of the small rig Riley had prepped for her. She really hated the words she was about to say. "I'm still not close enough." At this rate, she might as well sit on Mr. Bad Guy's lap to access his computer and finish the mission—well, part of it.

The main reason they were there was to—

"Son of a bitch." Jack started in the direction his hard gaze was fixed on; moving with a level of stealth and agility her eight week old tabby had yet to master. Or herself, she realized, as she tripped over her own two feet in her haste to keep up. Jack had gone off by himself a few times since they had snuck onto the camp, but he didn't make any weird hand signals this time so she thought it best to follow. She needed to get closer, anyway.

When she caught up, Jack was practically vibrating against his instinct, his _need_ to run to him.

"Oh, Mac," she breathed. "Is he?"

"He's _fine,_ " the former delta snapped, voice harsh, but low, so not to draw the attention of MacGyver's captors.

Hanging from bound hands high off the branch of a tree, MacGyver was gagged and unconscious. There was blood on his face and covering his right thigh.

"Come on, Mac," Jack whispered like a prayer, "wake up now. I'm here. You gotta wake up, bud."

Jill was looking around for a small stone to throw at him when MacGyver moaned.

"Yeah, bud, it's me. Open up those baby blues."

He started muttering something unintelligible under his gag before he had even managed that much.

"I know. I know, bud."

Well, maybe not unintelligible to Jack.

"You let me worry about that, brother." His voice was soft, soothing. Jill had never heard it like that before.

"Worry about what?" she asked, distracted as the screen lit up on her rig and started the connection with the target's computer automatically now that they were in range.

"About it being a trap."

"Wait, _what_?" she exclaimed as loud as she dared, eyes darting nervously around them. They were still hidden behind the pallets of cargo, but they weren't exactly wearing Invisibility Cloaks.

"Don't worry, Janet, it's all part of the plan." Jack looked like he was trying to figure out the best way to get MacGyver down.

"Mmfph."

" _Jill_ , whatever," Jack waved a hand dismissively at MacGyver's apparent correction.

Jill's mouth dropped. "How—?"

"Are we close enough yet, or what?" Jack looked over his shoulder at her. His gaze was intense and had been since MacGyver had gone missing over a day ago.

"Uh, y-yes," she looked back down at her screen, "it's working. I just have to—"

There was a crash and angry yelling from the cabin housing the information they were there to both retrieve and destroy.

"Alright, time for you to do your thing."

"What will you be doing?"

Jack pulled a small device out of his vest pocket. "My thing." With the quick push of a rather ominous looking red button, explosions rocked the camp all around them. Jill was still ducking when Jack got up and ran straight for MacGyver.

~*~MACGYVER~*~

Finished with her part, she was quickly stuffing Riley's rig into her bag when Jack rushed back with MacGyver over his shoulder. He eased him onto the ground as gently as possible, but MacGyver still made a sound that brought tears to her eyes.

"Ssshh, sorry, buddy—I know, I know. When we get to the plane, we'll get you the good stuff that makes you think everybody's a paperclip."

A bullet embedded itself into the pallet dangerously close to Jill's head. Making a rather undignified sound, she threw herself over MacGyver as Jack returned fire.

"We're pinned down here, Bozer," Jack yelled into their comms.

"Mmphfff pmpf." MacGyver was attempting to sit up, even while his face twisted in agony.

"Riley's fine, man, she's back at exfile. She just broke a few fangies." Jack held him down with his free hand.

"Phmpfeeg?"

"Yeah, that's what I said." He shot off a few more rounds. "Phalanges."

Jill reached for MacGyver's hands to cut them free—Jack apparently only had time to cut him down before throwing him over his shoulder, but MacGyver shied away and curled towards Jack.

"Leave 'em for now." His hand automatically moved to MacGyver's shoulder, even while his eyes remained on the people trying to kill them. "But see if you can get that gag off, will ya?"

She never got the chance. A spray of bullets showered them with splinters and Jill again threw herself over MacGyver. Maybe it was bravery that made her do it. Maybe it was pure instinct. Maybe he was just closer to the ground.

"Anytime now, Boze!"

As if on cue, Bozer flew into the camp in a large black van like a scene straight out of The A-Team. He hit anything and everything that got in his way…and possibly swerved to hit a few things that weren't.

Jack pulled MacGyver over his shoulder—grimacing as if he were the one hurting when MacGyver cried out. "Sorry, buddy. I know, I know."

"Mmfpph mphm," he panted.

"Now you and I both know that's a lie, hoss. Just sit tight and let me do the work."

Not for the first time Jill wondered if she had missed the training on _Gagged Partners and How to Understand Them_.

Bozer slid the van sideways to a stop; offering them both cover and direct access to the side door.

"Go! Go! Go!" Jack was already running, holding MacGyver secured on his shoulder with one hand while shooting with the other.

Jill was the first into the van and helped pull MacGyver inside. All three of them hit the floor hard as the door closed behind them, and Bozer drove out of the camp just as Fast and Furious as he had drove in.

Jack immediately reached for MacGyver who was gasping and making horrible, agonizing sounds that would most certainly follow Jill into her nightmares. A lump formed in the back of her throat as Jack pulled him into his arms with extraordinary care.

"It's alright, buddy. I know, I know," he started murmuring softly to him as he rubbed his arms, shoulders and chest. He looked to be in about the same amount of pain as Mac. There was a saying at the agency: _When MacGyver hurt, Jack felt it._ "You're alright." He was going back and forth between massaging his chest and shoulders to trying to get the gag off. "You just gotta—you just gotta ride it out."

"Here—" She was moving to help with the gag when Bozer hit a hole in the road and made a sharp left. She barely caught herself in time to avoid one epic face plant.

Crying out beneath the gag and squeezing his eyes shut, MacGyver turned his face into Jack's chest. "Sshh easy, buddy, I know. I know it hurts," Jack's voice cracked as he tucked him in closer and cupped the back of his head. When he looked at Jill there were tears in his eyes. "You check his leg while I get this crap off of him."

She nodded and immediately set to work. She couldn't help but wince as she tore MacGyver's pant leg to get a look at his wound. She didn't think she was hurting him—not yet anyway, but the possibility alone made her sick to the stomach. "Why aren't they chasing us?" she asked as an afterthought.

"I disabled all of their vehicles." Jack was looking for a place to cut the tight gag when bullets hit the van. "Okay, _almost_ all of them," he corrected, shielding MacGyver with his body. "How we lookin', Boz?" They didn't have any windows in the back and there was a partition between them and Bozer.

"It's lookin' like these bastards are gonna regret messin' with my boy," Bozer announced just before there was a loud crash behind them. "Did Mac ever tell you we won every Mouse Trap tournament in the sixth grade?"

Chuckling, Jack shook his head and turned back to MacGyver who had grown restless and was trying to sit up—despite the pain he was obviously in. "Settle down now, hoss. We're fine. Bozer took care of it."

MacGyver immediately slumped back into Jack's arms and sighed deeply. "Mphbfs?"

"Yes, I'm sure, now let's get this thing off you, shall we?"

"Hmm."

"As tight as it is, you'd think those bastards were trying to cut off the blood supply to that giant brain of yours."

When the gag was finally removed, MacGyver sighed in relief and started rubbing his face against Jack's chest in a desperate attempt, Jill could only imagine, to get the blood to start flowing again. "Okay, I never thought I'd say this but you're as bad as my niece's cat," Jack teased, but carefully started to massage the other side of his jaw, mindful of the bruises. And that's when Jill realized that MacGyver hadn't moved his arms and hands at all; because he couldn't. He had been hanging by them for so long, there was no way the muscles and ligaments had escaped trauma.

"What's the verdict on the leg there, Skittles?" It was a far cry from Maid Marion. She was beginning to think Jack had a problem.

"It's deep, but just a graze. It'll need a good cleaning, I'm afraid, and you'll need antibiotics," she finished, addressing MacGyver—who gave her a weak, lopsided grin even as Jack continued to massage his jaw absently.

"Hey, Mac look at me a minute." Jack tilted his chin up and pulled a small penlight out of his vest pocket. When he shined it into blue eyes, MacGyver squeezed them shut with a grunt and tried to pull his chin out of Jack's grip. But Jack wouldn't let him go until he was finished with his assessment. "Looks like you've earned a concussion to go with that lump," he gestured to the bloody wound just above MacGyver's temple.

"I think he has a fever, too," Jill added.

Jack nodded knowingly as he pulled out his water bottle and helped MacGyver take a small sip. "That's it for now, bud. We wanna make sure everything stays down."

"How's our boy doing back there, Jack?" Bozer called from the front…just as he hit a large bump that Jill actually achieved some airtime from. It might have been fun if they weren't running for their lives and every bump and swerve didn't cause MacGyver to cry out in sheer agony.

"He'll be better once he gets outta this damn pinball machine!" Jack hollered back, holding MacGyver tighter.

~*~MACGYVER~*~

"Can-can we just put them back on?" Jill asked, desperate as MacGyver writhed in pain and tried to hide it by burying his face in Jack's chest again.

Jack shook his head and threw the rope that had been binding MacGyver's hands together across the van. Both arms back around him then, he pressed his cheek against the top of MacGyver's head. "Just a couple minutes, brother. Just a couple of minutes and it'll get better." He rubbed his hand up and down MacGyver's arms and shoulders again—trying to hurry the blood flow, trying to ease the muscles cramping.

"Here." Jill started gently massaging the other arm, mindful of the torn and bruised skin around his wrists.

"Don't you worry, Mac. In less than a week, you'll be back to batting your average—and almost as good as me, again."

MacGyver mumbled something indiscernible between gasps of pain into Jack's chest and the older man grinned and shook his head. "No need to get spicy."

Jill crinkled her brow and began to wonder if maybe they were just speaking in their own language. "What did he say?"

"Oh, darlin', it's not something one should repeat in polite company."

MacGyver hummed and Jill felt like it was some kind of warning.

"Well, it's true," Jack replied defensively.

Maybe she was getting the hang of this after all.

Eventually, MacGyver's breathing slowed and he started to relax into Jack's hold as the pain receded. He blinked sluggishly up at him as Jack brushed a hand through the blonde hair. MacGyver's eyes were so full of pain and exhaustion—but what Jill noticed even more was the trust there. It was absolute. That knot in her throat returned. She had never seen them this way. Mac was always so stoic and hid his pain so well. Jack was always so big and loud and confident.

But now, MacGyver was not only allowing comfort, he sought it. And Jack—Jill had never seen him looking so helpless before. And he was all soft and tender around all the edges that she usually found rough.

There were still tears in his eyes as he continued to card his hand through MacGyver's hair. "You scared me, man," he admitted roughly even as MacGyver's eyes started to drift closed. "When I turned around and you weren't…." He cut himself off, shaking his head. "You can't keep doing that to me, bud."

She wasn't sure MacGyver was even still awake until he hummed.

"I know, I know you are—or at least you will be," Jack replied, rubbing his hand up and down MacGyver's arm again. "You will be."

The van slowed to a stop and not a fraction later, Bozer slid open the van door. "Everybody got all their fingers and toes back here?"

"No thanks to you, Bozer Andretti."

Bozer's eyes turned dark with worry when they landed on MacGyver. Placing a hand over his foot, his tone softened considerably. "Damn, Mac."

Still listless in Jack's arms, MacGyver blinked open his eyes. "Boze."

Jill's eyes widened. "I…I-I-I got that," she exclaimed, looking between the three of them. "He said, "Boze," and I understood him!" Finally, she had learned the code, or whatever it was they were speaking in.

They all furrowed their brows in confusion—clearly not aware of the struggle she's endured. MacGyver looked a little concerned and glanced up at Jack, raising his eyebrows. "Don't look at me. I didn't do anything to her."

It was then that Jill realized that MacGyver had actually spoken—clearly, if not slightly hoarse and weak sounding.

"Uh, Jill, did you suffer some sort of head trauma while you were out there?" Bozer asked somewhat warily.

"I—no—he—they—" She groaned. "Oh, never mind."

The End. For now.


End file.
